


Prospects

by storiesfortravellers



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Birthday Presents, Feeling Out of Place, M/M, Mild Angst, Timey-Wimey, common ground
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-16
Updated: 2013-08-16
Packaged: 2017-12-23 16:29:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/928664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storiesfortravellers/pseuds/storiesfortravellers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bruce visits Steve on his birthday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prospects

**Author's Note:**

  * For [inalasahl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/inalasahl/gifts).



They threw a birthday party for Steve on the Fourth of July. Tony wanted to make his birthday fireworks the biggest display in the city, but Steve insisted that that would be inappropriate. Tony didn’t agree with Steve, but Pepper did, so Steve at least dodged that embarrassment. In the end, they had a nice evening barbecue on Tony’s terrace, and almost everyone Steve knew was invited.  


When he went home, late that night, he sighed and plopped down on the couch. He set his bag of gifts next to him and proceeded to pack them into a box that he was planning to store in a corner of his closet.  


Everyone had gotten him gifts related to the time he came from. Hill bought him DVDs of films Steve watched back then, Coulson got him vintage baseball cards (which were actually pretty great), Tony and Pepper got him an old phonograph machine. Someone even got him an empty grenade shell from WWII (and he sure didn’t need help remembering those). All the guests from SHIELD bought him items from the 30s and 40s – things that used to be found everywhere and now were sold only as nostalgia. 

Well, almost everyone gave him presents like this. Natasha and Clint had found out last week that Steve didn’t have a “go bag” and so today they gifted him with a duffel bag full of cash, fake IDs, a field surgery kit, and several very sharp knives. 

Steve didn’t think he’d need it, but he grew up in the Depression and had always known the value of practical gifts.

But the other gifts…. He appreciated them. He was touched by the trouble they all must have gone through to find them. 

But he spent the whole party giving fake smiles, pretending that every single “vintage” item didn’t remind him that he lost his whole world. That the things and people and life he used to have, the things that made him feel like he could breathe, were now nothing but decoration. His century was now just a hobby for wealthy collectors. 

Steve was almost done packing the gifts away – carefully, since they were gifts and they deserved to be treated with respect regardless of his feelings – when someone knocked at his door.

Steve opened it.

“Happy Birthday,” Bruce said, wry smile.

“Thank you,” Steve said, genuinely surprised to see him. “Come in, please.”

Bruce walked in and Steve got him a caffeine free soda. He had known that Bruce wouldn’t be at his party – Bruce didn’t do parties, and he especially didn’t hang out outside on days when people were lighting fireworks. 

“I should be getting home soon,” Bruce said. “There are still idiots with sparklers out there. But I wanted to give you this.” He handed Steve a plain white box, unwrapped.

“Thank you,” Steve said, trying not to wince.

He opened the box.

It was a magic eight ball. 

Bruce started to explain, “It’s a--”

“I know what it is,” Steve said with a laugh. “Why, exactly?”

Bruce shrugged. “Birthdays are just reminders that you’re old. Friends are supposed to make you feel better about it by giving you silly gifts.”

“Well, considering I’m the oldest man you know, I guess that’s a good thing,” Steve grinned.

“I was going to get you one of those cards that joke about how ancient you are, but those cards are for kids much younger than you,” Bruce said wryly.

“Thanks.”

“Are those your other gifts?” Bruce asked, gesturing to the box.

“Yeah, they were all incredibly thoughtful,” Steve said.

Bruce raised an eyebrow. People who like their gifts don’t immediately pack them away into a cardboard box.

“I really like them, I just want to, you know, keep them organized,” Steve reiterated.

Bruce picked through a couple of the gifts on top. Vintage cigar cutters, an old album. He looked at Steve and said, “You don’t have to explain. I get it.”

There was something about the look in Bruce’s eyes, some poorly masked pain mingled with compassion. Steve realized that Bruce probably did get it. What it means to leave everything behind, to come back to a world you’re still not sure you really belong in.

Steve nodded.

“So what should I ask it?” Steve said, holding up the eight ball.

“Whatever you want.”

“Hmmm. Should Bruce stay and help me finish the leftover cake?” Steve asked.

He held up the answer so Bruce could see: _Outlook good._


End file.
